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The beat thunders, flows, behind me,
Destined to guide, to follow,
The life I sometimes take for granted.
But the thin curtain of reality
Has worn out and fallen,
Like a sullen reminder of pain and past.
Drums sound off in the distance,
A harsh echo, calling all who hear,
To witness the battle.
The silent war,
Between your angels and demons,
Watching the lightning strike in flashes.
Quietly this life fades, radiant,
Until all that is left is peace,
A uneasy calm, and dust.
Tom Stanley |